


Praying for Sinners

by pacmanfrogman



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Tags May Change, title may change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-26 18:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacmanfrogman/pseuds/pacmanfrogman
Summary: Grace Reddington's father is a sickly man, so when he stops sending letters a few weeks after going to England to speak with the Earl of Phantomhive, she worries. Not even international border customs can stop her when she flies over to England to find him and a few more secrets she probably would have been better off not unveiling.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Original Female Character(s), William T. Spears/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story two years ago for my friend and publishing it now for myself. Comments would be greatly appreciated, and I thank you so much for the time you are taking to read it. Now, please enjoy the first chapter of Praying for Sinners.

“Father?” I called out. As expected, there wasn’t a reply. There should not have been. He’s been gone for over a month now. It’s strange because he’s always late, but the twinge I feel in my heart is difficult to explain. It could be that he said that he would be back within a week. That London was safe enough during this time of year. That I should not have to worry, the Earl of Phantomhive may be rumored to be a devil-worshiper but it was fine he can’t hurt a fellow business man like him, ha-ha. Maybe, it’s knowing that he is usually an honest man. No doors were ever to be locked, we could come and go as we pleased in the house.

Except, I tried to get into his study earlier today searching for a bit of sympathy (I will never admit it out loud, but I always miss him when he’s gone) and found that it was locked. The servants would not give me keys, saying that no one should enter whilst he was gone. I huffed and said that as the lady of the house I should be allowed to access any room. It is my favorite room in the house after all.

“Strict orders ma’am. Y’know the boss, he likes people to obey him. I wouldn’t wanna to go in if I were you.”

There was a window in the study that was small enough to lift and big enough to fit into. No one was going to stop me tonight. Naturally, I waited until the house had settled down. The servants had gone home or to their rooms downstairs. I couldn’t think of any way to leave the house through the front door, or any door for that matter, quietly enough, so I was forced to stoop to the thieves’ route. Slowly, carefully, I lowered myself down through the window using some dresses and silk bed sheets tied together. It was a rare tactic used among some of my closest companions and I as we would often sneak away to visit our lovers. I had not used it in a while and had grown out of practice. I could only pray that I tied the correct knots and that my clammy hands would not loosen my grip.

The moon brightened the yard and reflected off of the droplets of dew on the grass. A light breeze would pass by every so often, causing the fabric of my dresses to flutter open and cover my face. Branches would crack as owls took flight and terrify me. Fortunately, the study’s window was not too far away from where I exited, so the cold sweat was short-lived. There was a tree by the window of the study that would cast abstract shadows when the sun shone through its leaves. I would amuse myself by trying to find shapes in them. I had once seen a large bird, a raven, it seemed like. And then a wolf’s head rearing back to howl. Presently, the leaves cast no discernible shape, just a black mass which I assumed would aid me for cover as I attempted to balance a ladder against a wall. The ladder must’ve been left over from the groundskeeper pruning the branches. I whispered a prayer as I began to climb it with its rickety steps. I would have to ask about a raise for the poor man; I was scared out of my wits.

Thankfully, it had held up. The window was closed but unlocked, so I was able to stick my fingers inside the latches and pry it open. I shimmied through the ample crawl space, careful not to rip my nightgown. When my toes touched the carpet, I could feel a thin layer of dust stick to them. Father must have been really serious about his order. No one was not allowed to enter, not even to clean!

(Outside, the ladder clanged against the cobblestone path. It’s late. No one should have heard it.)

The study felt so strange. It was not tidy at all. Papers were strewn around an uncorked bottle of ink. Tax books lay open on the floor and there were all sorts of economic texts off their shelves. This business opportunity had to have taken a lot of work to prepare. He had been talking about it for a while before he left. Saying how excellent it would be for his bank if they could buy stock. The riches we had would only multiply once the Earl of Phantomhive signed those papers.

I sat down on the red puffy arm chair he had by his desk. It groaned and exhaled under my weight, further reminding me of its disuse. As I closed my hand around the brass handle of the drawer on the desk, I contemplated what I would do if I found some clues. I could always send my associates out to look for him for I doubted I would be able to leave alone to England. If he was in the states, I could always take a train ride over to wherever he was. I’ve traveled around a lot, so I know my way around the bigger cities. I opened the cabinet. Inside, there were a few loose-leaf papers, but most prominently there was a very crumpled sheet that was shoved into the corner waiting to be forgotten. It crinkled when I laid it onto the surface of the desk and smoothed it out. The writing on it was very clearly my Father’s. It was rigid and sharp; every stroke could’ve ripped the paper with the force he applied to it. There was also several words and phrases that had a line etched through it. Reading it was difficult, but what I could make out was a tad alarming:

_ Dear Sir Phantomhive,_

_I hope you have received the letter in good health. When you last wrote I was in bed with an ache, so I apologize for the silence. I’m am filled with happiness knowing that you, sir, have been a great aid and have earned a great deal of trust from me. I plan to visit your home in London. As you know, our current situation is a great trial to us. It is a difficult world we inhabit, and I’m desperately worried about the condition of my health and business. I’m doing everything I can keep it. I find myself aching for change in a world I oft visit. Enclosed you will find another note. Please consider the consequences. You know what we’re capable of. _

_Respectfully, _

_O. G. Reddington_

I jumped up at the sound of voices coming from below the window.

“Somebody moved the ladder!"

“It’s been windy out, I bet the wind knocked it down or something.”

“Can’t get knocked down if I didn’t put it up in the first place.”

“How do you know that you even set it down once you were done, idiot?”

The servants continued bickering, but I paid no mind to them. Joshua and Mr. Frankie have always been like that. But at least they’re not paying attention to the very obvious open window that rests a few feet above them. Silently, I put the letter back, and took my leave making sure to grab the spare key on the sconce by the door. My room wasn’t too far away. I still had more than enough time to think about my plan. My father had threatened the Earl. It wasn’t hard to imagine what could’ve happened if the Earl took it seriously. I also knew that the world of business was a challenging and unforgiving place, it would completely break those not used to the pressure… Also, what about the other enclosed note? What contents lay inside? Is it dangerous? I scoffed at myself. Of course it is. But maybe I’m being too paranoid, I had to be. It could be that the deal is too one-sided, and they may need some extra time to discuss it further before going along with it? However, he would have told us of he was going to prolong his stay, it's the least he could do after scaring us so many other times coming home hurt and limping without telling us where he was. Only this time, I _knew_ where he last was and I was going to find him and keep him safe because it's the least _I _could do because I can't lose him too and-

My head was pulsing and my heart was beating louder than my thoughts. I needed to calm down and think. Obviously, I should contact somebody. My thoughts floated to the Earl. He could be the culprit behind his maybe-disappearance. He could give me some clues or, better yet, his whereabouts. And if he was the culprit, the notoriety that could come from outing a cult leader is too good to resist. But the bitter taste of my tongue told me otherwise. I was scared. It would mean going to England, far from the protection of American authority. It would be easier to go alone as well. 

Well, I've made up my mind. Throwing my ivory trunk on the still made bed, I went mad as I opened every drawer in my closet and picked what I needed out. I packed my finest dresses (not the ones hanging out the window, mind you) and basic necessities. London is a very strict place, so I'm taking garments in accordance to what I've heard. I also packed a book of poetry, Edgar Allen Poe and I would enjoy each others' company on the trip across the ocean. Speaking of which, I still needed a way to get to the harbor with a solid alibi. 

Oh! My dearest friend Janet is currently residing by the harbor in a property her fiance owns. Excellent. I will get Joshua to take me there under the pretense of staying there awhile. He'll be up for anything (country boys and their yes-man attitudes... absolutely charming). 

My hands shook as I counted my money, I could not believe I was doing this. I have not been to London in such a long time. One could only wonder what has changed. Hopefully not much, I will need to navigate myself around it, something I'm dreadful at.

For my father, I'll gladly lose myself a thousand times over if only I could find him there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i hate boats.

The trip was rough. For the first time in a while, I was severely seasick. Most of my ride was spent in the toilets trying not to pass out. When we disembarked, I swayed as I tried to find a carriage that would take me to the nearest railroad station. There, I watched the English countryside roll by.

It was easy to see where London was. The factories surrounding it gave it a black, heavy haze that would often result in cloudy days. As the train got closer, raindrops began racing across the windows. Another storm! I have only been here for a few hours and already the atmosphere was making me gloomy.

The train whistled and came to a screeching halt made more jarring with the rain pouring down. Passengers struggled to stand and collect their baggage, some began opening their umbrellas indoors. I mentally wished them good luck. Goodness knows what could happen.

“Phantomhive Manor? Miss, you’re going mad aren’t you? M’not driving you there,” said the carriage driver.

“Why not? Twenty pounds are on the line!”

“Haven’t you heard? He’s a cult leader, a demon, a madman, a- Know what? Get off my carriage.”

“How dare you! I am Grace Reddington, you could be facing severe consequences.”

“You aren’t anybody over here. Get off, I have a wife and children. I’m not disappearing tonight!”

I grimaced as my shoe absorbed the rainwater on the ground. This is terrible.

“Um, how far away is the manor?”

“A kilometer or so away. Good luck!” he said as he cracked his whip over the horse. It neighed and took him in the direction of the manor. Dammit.

There was nothing left to do but walk all the way over.

I felt as though I were insignificant when I saw the manor. It was bigger than the one I had back home, and definitely more foreboding. Only a single window was illuminated. Through it, I saw the silhouette of a person pacing around the orange-tinted room. The person was taking quick steps, as though in a hurry to sort their thoughts out. Where they anticipating my arrival? Was a servant acting out of line? I wish them good luck if that were the case, I’ve heard too much of his cruelty. Was it even the earl who was troubled?

Really now, so many stories of people entering the manor never to be seen again along with the rare sightings of him in public, how could I even begin to think that he was worried?

Another raindrop caressed my brow, the rain was going to come down harder soon. And the entrance was a ways away. Hopefully I wouldn’t stain my dress or further dampen my hair. Good first impressions were important, Father always said. Especially for a young lady such as myself, my dark eyes should shine against a well-powdered face.

I was not even a yard away from the magnificent door when it swung open, releasing a draft of air cooler than the one that was currently ripping my dress away. My gaze fell upon a single oil lamp that lit up a pair of eyes. Beautiful eyes. They were deeper than a lake, richer than the chocolate that Father would bring home, resplendent as-

“The servants’ entrance is through the back. Good night,” said a cool voice.

I shook out of whatever spell had been placed upon me. It’s always the dark eyes that enrapture me. Fool I was to let myself go in front of the man who insulted me.

“Excuse you, Sir. I am not a servant. Were you not told of my visit?” I replied.

The man leaned in closer, allowing me to take a whiff of whatever scent he had doused himself with. The lantern was in between us now, the heat emanating from it warming my chest.

“Surely you cannot be pretending to be Missus Grace Reddington? I expected a horse drawn carriage and a parade, mind you. I’m a bit disappointed, she did have a very elegant way of describing herself.”

Oh, I recognize that scent. It is, as the French call it, _eau de bastard._

“Well, yes. Sadly, I am _the_ Missus Reddington. And no, I did not write about a parade. Also, the man who was driving my carriage happened to be as lovely as you are and left me a mile from here when I said I would be coming here”

He hummed and stood straight. Turning around, he said “Very well then. My master will be very happy to make your acquaintance. Have you any bags? I could escort you to a room on the top floor. The master requested not to be bothered, not even by you.”

I reluctantly handed him my trunk, wishing it were full of snakes that would coil around his wrist and bite him. He sighed, “I deeply apologize for my behavior. We’ve been having a string of nuisances arriving at our door and demanding an audience. I simply wished to ward off any aspiring debutante or sad entrepreneur”

A nuisance could’ve been Father. He did say that it was rather difficult to get a hold of the earl.

“Was one of those nuisances my Father?”

He ignored me and continued.

“That being said, the Master appreciates your visit. The disappearance of your father is troubling, and our only wish is to serve others loyally,” He stopped and gave me a sideways glance, “please watch yourself, I recently just waxed the floor and I don’t need another person sullying it again.”

He took a left turn into a wonderfully warm corridor. An extinguished fire was letting its embers simmer. Various paintings of men with sad and heavy eyes hung on the forest-green walls. A vase with wilting red flowers sat in the corner of the room along with an unopened letter. Loopy, girlish handwriting was scrawled along it. An odd place to put such a nice gift.

It was here that I was able to drink in the view of the man who so graciously invited me in. Long dark hair obscured the shape of his face. His black swallowtail coat hardly moved as he glided through the corridor. The pressed pants he wore spoke of an easy life without hard labor and easy beauty.

“Miss Elliot?”

I flinched, “Yes?”

“If you could please set your sights on the door to my right please?”

“Of course!” I shouted too enthusiastically. I would later regret this.

“This is your room. Please refrain from wandering around at night or seeking out anything inappropriate. I would hate to see you leave so early on in your visit.”

As he set my things down, he turned to face me. His rather handsome face betrayed his previous actions. I found myself almost forgiving him.

“Lastly, my name is Sebastian Michaelis. Please, do not hesitate to ask me for anything,” he slowly cocked his face and slowly whispered, “anything at all.”

He exited the room rather swiftly, taking the candle and promises with him.

I allowed myself a moment of rest as I sunk into the comforter of the bed and thought about what I was going to do tomorrow.

I knew I had to bring up my Father’s disappearance, but I didn’t want to sound as if I was accusing the earl. I also need to find out more about Sebastian. What though, I do not know. And looking back, I wish I could’ve researched a little more about the earl. There was no painting of him in the corridor, but I can assume he would bear some resemblance to his ancestors. I also need to ask about a potential business opportunity. But I feel as if though that would be too insensitive for a breakfast chat.

I closed my eyes to better imagine the taste of a warm breakfast. Eggs would be a must, and oh- hopefully the cook would have the conscience to make some hardboiled ones. A smell began to waft in. I can’t place what it is, but it doesn’t smell too appetizing. It must be pork then.

No matter, if the cook doesn’t make something that I like I can simply ask for another dish. Suppressing a yawn, I tucked myself further into the bed. Tomorrow will come quicker if I rest.


End file.
